


Whole Lotta Love

by Jenemi



Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking Games, Drunk Sex, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, my first fic in years be gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenemi/pseuds/Jenemi
Summary: Faye and Spike drag you into their drinking contest, and all the soju makes you lose your inhibitions.(you're part of the bebop crew, no explanation, just roll with it)
Relationships: Spike Spiegel/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 107





	Whole Lotta Love

“I thought you knew better than to start making bets with her.”

Jet glared disapprovingly at the three of you as Faye lined up the shot glasses with a cheeky smile. The bottles of soju — bought with Spike’s share of the bounty, of course — sat in the center of the table. The news of a drinking contest hardly surprised you, considering how competitive the crew of the Bebop was. You didn’t necessarily share their enthusiasm, but you did have an appreciation of good liquor. Especially considering how sparse the cupboards had been the past few weeks.

“I thought you didn’t take me for a lightweight,” Spike mused, pulling a money clip from his suit pocket and tossing a few Woolongs on the table. Jet rolled his eyes and left. For all the time you’ve been on the ship, he rarely partook in your mischief, and tonight wasn’t any different.

“With all the head injuries you’ve got, I think we’re evenly matched.” Faye retorted, still wearing the same ill-intentioned smile. She threw in her fair share of cash, then the two looked at you expectantly.

“Alright, alright, I’m in,” you sighed. The stakes were high and you weren’t entirely sure what you were up against, but the two of them were awfully convincing when they wanted to be. You reached into your pocket and threw in your bet.

“You’re on,” Spike said with a smirk. You caught a devilish glint in his eye as he filled the three shot glasses to the top. He passed each of you a shot and raised his glass, nodding for you to do the same.

“Cheers!”

* * *

Faye was swaying slightly as she reached in for the next round. She kept her eyes steadfast on the pot and downed her glass without flinching. You laughed.

“I’m nnn-ot gonna steal your money, Faye,” you said with a hiccup. Spike smirked at your joke, stifling a laugh. If you hadn’t known how many rounds the three of you had finished beforehand, you’d hardly know he was drunk. The only sign was the slight redness of his cheeks and the way he wasn’t afraid to sit closer to you. It was almost dangerous.

“No honor among thieves,” she slurred slightly, before falling back on the couch. She propped one boot up on the table and narrowly avoided knocking over the second bottle. Silence fell over the room for a few moments, and then you heard her snore.

Spike shot you another mischievous look. “No shame in backing out now.”

“Not a chance, Spiegel.” You attempted to smirk back at him in the same charming way, and failed miserably. You had lost most of your restraint, and now that Faye was out cold, you pounced at the chance to flirt. You rose from your side of the couch and stumbled over. He held out an arm to catch you as you unceremoniously plopped down next to him, and then pulled you in closer. The room spun slightly.

“Sorry ma’am, but I’m going to have to cut you off.” He probably had another stupid cocky smile, but you couldn’t tell with your face buried in the side of his chest. You held on tightly as he leaned over to pour himself another shot, then swallowed it. He had an interesting smell. Of course, he had drank so much that it was coming out of his pores, but he also smelled of musky cologne and tobacco. It was comforting.

Spike stood up, despite your whines of protest. He took the hint and hoisted you up over his shoulder, securing your back with one arm and cradling your thighs with the other.

“Don’ wanna sleep in my bed,” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his slender torso. “Take me with you.”

“You’re pretty forward when you’re drunk, you know,” he said casually. He ignored your fussing and carried you off to your room, dropping you in your own bed. “You oughta get some sleep.”

You looked up and shot him your best puppy dog eyes, despite your vision warping out of focus. You’d consider it a pitiful move if you were sober, but you didn’t bother thinking of your pride. “But I don’ have my PJ’s on.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

You amped up the act, pouting your lower lip. He groaned.

“Remind me next time that you can’t handle your liquor.” Spike turned and walked across the room to grab you a change of clothes, and you couldn’t help but grin. You took a mental note that he was receptive to the cutesy act.

“You can at least do this yourself, right?” he said, dropping an oversized t-shirt in your lap. You responded by lifting your shirt over your head, and he quickly turned his face away. “Jesus!”

“What, never seen a lady naked before?” you remarked, unclasping your bra behind your back and tossing it to the side. He neglected to answer. You stood up and approached him, shimmying out of your shorts on the way over. “Come sleep in my bed.”

“We’re both way too drunk—” he tried to protest, but you pressed your lips against his and snaked your tongue into his mouth. He sounded startled, but soon he melted into the kiss and suddenly his hands were squeezing your waist and you were undoing the buttons of his shirt and you could feel him getting hard against your bare skin and…

He pulled away, gasping for breath. “Fuck,” he muttered, and then he was all over you again, biting your bottom lip. You stumbled backwards and he fell on top of you, both of your bodies pressed together. He shrugged his suit jacket off and worked quickly to remove his shirt, and then you could feel the labored breathing in his belly pressed against yours.

Spike had always been impulsive, but now he was truly primal, diving in to bite and suck on your neck, eliciting a moan. He bit you like he wanted to draw blood, and clawed at your back with the same fervor. When you felt like your neck was truly covered in bruises, he moved down and began to suck on your nipple, tightly holding your breast in one hand as he lapped with his tongue. You ground your hips against his chest, stifling your moans in your throat.

He reached down and you heard the satisfying sound of his belt being pulled off. He came back up and held you by the chin as he continued to kiss you deeply, forcing his tongue into your mouth and running it across your teeth. His pants were abandoned at the foot of your bed, and now his cock was pressed to your thigh. You continued to squirm, desperate for him to pull your panties off and—

“Just fuck me already,” you whined. He gave you a stern look.

“Please.”

“Much better,” he replied. Then his hands wandered to your hips, carefully sliding off your panties and finally pushing his fingers inside of you. You had been aching for this for so long and he could tell, pulling out his soaked digits and pushing them into your mouth. You eagerly sucked on his fingers, swirling your tongue around until he popped them out, satisfied.

“You’re sure you want this?” he said, panting, his curly hair starting to stick to his forehead. You could feel him rubbing his cock against your entrance.

“Please! Pleasepleaseplease, I want you, I-” He shoved a hand against your mouth to muffle your begging. 

“Good girl,” he purred close to your ear, and you writhed at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin. “Be quiet, okay?” You nodded in response, silenced with his hand clasped over your mouth.

With that, he slowly slid inside you, and you felt his cock stretching you out. You groaned through his hand and again he shushed you, squeezing your cheeks. He got you so goddamn wet that he could easily thrust in and out of you, entirely filling you up with his length. You felt shockwaves each time he withdrew and then slammed back into you, as if he really did want to make you scream. You rocked your hips in time with his, desperate to really get fucked, but he kept teasing you with his slow, deep thrusts. He took his free hand and dug his nails deep into your ass, wanting to mark you everywhere so you wouldn’t forget.

You dug your fingernails into Spike’s back and entrapped him between your crossed legs, trying to beg him to stop teasing you, but he pretended not to notice.

“God damn, you’re too fucking cute like this,” he groaned, and finally released your mouth. Before you could speak, his tongue was forced into your mouth again and he sped up to a punishing rhythm, fucking you so hard you almost forgot to breathe. You cried out into his mouth and your legs spasmed, gripping him as tightly as possible. He grabbed a fistful of your hair in a tight grip. “I need to cum inside you.”

“Please Spike, I want your cum in me, pleasepleaseplease-” you begged, completely drunk not only on soju but on the intoxicating way his cock felt pumping deep inside you. He didn’t slow down, burying his face in your neck as he continued relentlessly. He tightened his grip on your hair and grunted, thrusting his hips into yours forcefully until you felt him climax, his cum filling you up and spilling out.

Almost immediately, he fell limp on top of you. His breathing was much more labored now, and you could see his mop of black hair had frizzed up from all the sweat. You tried to catch your breath too, laid together silent except for the sound of your breathing in a tangle of limbs and heat.

“Jesus,” he said after a while, breaking the silence. You laughed, taking the cue to curl up and run your fingers over his damp back.

“We should do this more often,” you replied.

* * *

The next morning (or you thought it was morning, it’s hard to tell in space), you woke up with pounding in your head and your stomach ready to jump out of your throat. You glanced to the other side of your bed. It was empty, save for a small indentation. You rolled over to where Spike had slept, deeply inhaling the smell of his cologne and Marlboros. It was no longer warm, but his scent was still there.

After reminiscing about the night before for too long, the aching in your skull demanded for you to get up for a glass of water. You threw on your clothes from the day before and carefully tiptoed around the ship, unsure about what a scene you had made the night before. You peered into the kitchen, just barely sticking your head around the corner.

It was Spike. He sat on the counter, eyes closed as he took a deep drag from his cigarette. He had cleaned up pretty nicely from last night: hair no messier than usual, a clean suit, and it didn’t look like you left any marks (thank God). You suddenly realized you forgot to inspect your neck for hickies before you came out.

“Good morning,” he said, and his brown eyes fluttered open to meet yours with a piercing stare. You jumped.

“I didn’t think you noticed me there,” you said, walking into the kitchen.

“I notice a lot of things,” he said, and lazily took another puff. “You might wanna cover that up.”

So it was as bad as you thought. You self-consciously put a hand to your neck, trying to appear nonchalant as you walked across the bare metal floor to grab the glass of water that you desperately needed.

“So… did anyone…?”

“They were out cold.” He doesn’t make you finish your question. “Had to head out early to get some info on a big-time bountyhead.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. So the two of you were alone. You filled your glass in the sink and greedily chugged it down, drops of water spilling from the corners of your lips. Your head was still pounding hard, and you put a hand to your forehead in a futile attempt to make it stop.

“You should lay back down. You weren’t exactly yourself last night.” Spike said, shooting you another one of those goddamn perverted smiles. The memory of the night before flashes back to you, his face red, his fingers clawing down your back, his tongue lapping yours...

“I think I might,” you finally replied, your head dizzy with the memories.

“Were you?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Were you yourself last night?”

You blushed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Spike slid off the counter and approached you, not breaking eye contact. He touched his fingertips to your chin. “Can I find out for myself?”

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic i have written in about six years omfg
> 
> i just finished watching cowboy bebop and spike is my boyfriend now <33 lemme know if you're interested in a part 2 in the comments!


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